Holy
crap in a Bundt pan...
Due to the
recent well-publicized shortage of
amateur websites produced by assholes who consider themselves to be
clever, I
have been called into action. My name is Jeff Kay, and I’m an
Ugly American living
on the cusp of a mid-life crisis, near Scranton, PA. And I’m here to
serve, baby.
The
View From Down Here A journal of
sorts, updated every once in a while.
Before we get started today, I have a few quick things…
--First and foremost:the t-shirts are ready!I’m
going to pick them up this afternoon, and should be able to start
shipping them out on Monday.The
T-Shirt Lady says they turned out “nice,” and I’ll post a picture
later today.
Thanks to everyone who’s already pre-ordered.And if you haven’t, now’s the time.Here’s yer link.
--Also, check out this
great new Smoking Fish sighting.I
don’t think there’s any chance in hell I could eat such a thing.
I’m not really a huge fan of ridiculous amounts of meat.In fact, I have to avert my eyes when I’m at Wendy’s and
encounter an illuminated photograph of a so-called “triple,” which
is nothing more than a column
of ground beef. Blecch.
Needless to say, I like burgers.But
everything needs to be distributed evenly.If you have too much of any one ingredient, whether it be meat,
mustard, lettuce, or whatever, it detracts from the overall experience.
When I make burgers at home I smash them way down so they’re thin.Many people, including my parents, serve up big ol’ glistening
meat apples, and I can’t have that.
Could you eat a fifteen pound hamburger?
--And this probably won’t mean
a whole lot to you, but I cleaned up the bunker yesterday.It was an atrocious mess.For
the past couple of months I’ve tapped-out these updates from amongst
squalor.
I’m not usually a filthy person, but when it comes to my office all
bets are off, for some reason.
The tipping point came when I walked over to the fridge Wednesday
evening and got something stuck to the bottom of my foot.And I couldn’t tell if it was rotten lettuce, or cold cuts of
some sort.Right now, if forced
to guess, I’d say it was baloney.Which
is kinda strange, since I haven’t eaten baloney in years.
So anyway, I spent yesterday afternoon cleaning, and my private space
here is now a thing of beauty.It’s
largely clutter-free, everything’s dusted and vacuumed, and there are
no alarming funk pockets.I
tossed an entire maxed-out trash bag of crapola, and I think we’re
going to have to burn the dust rag I used.
Sweet sainted mother of Hugo Reyes!
--The Secrets and I bought some
fireworks when we were at Myrtle Beach
last week, and I was curious about where they’re legal, other than
South Carolina
and Tennessee
.
Here’s
a site with some information, but I’m not sure it’s completely
accurate.I found a few things
that didn’t seem quite right…But
it’s mildly interesting, nonetheless.
When I was in high school I used to buy M-80s in bulk from a cop (go
figure), and a splendid time was had by all.I asked the guy at the store in Myrtle Beach
about M-80s, and he seemed to have an encyclopedic knowledge of the
things.
He said they (along with cherry bombs) have been against the law in the
United States
since 1966, but are still readily available on the black market.He warned, however, that since 9/11 the penalties for getting
caught with illegal explosives are very steep indeed.
“They’ll just bypass the courts,” he said, “and drag your ass
straight to prison.”
I can only remember seeing one actual cherry bomb in my entire life, and
my uncle set if off at the corner of 18th Street
and
Myers Avenue in Dunbar
, WV
, in approximately 1968.The fact
that I can remember the details so clearly should tell you a little
about the freakin’ coolness of the event.
Do you have any M-80 or cherry bomb tales to tell?Use the comments link below.
--And I didn’t mean for the
“introduction” to drag on like this.In fact, I think I’ll just pick up the Myrtle Beach
story next time.Screw it.Check back over the weekend; I’ll try to get the next
installment up sometime tomorrow.No
promises, though.I’m a very
busy man.Ahem.
I’ll leave you now with a ridiculous Question that came to me while I
was taking a shower this morning:Which
United States Presidents do you think were the greatest farters, and
why?
I’d have to go with Lyndon Johnson, mostly because of the “LBJ
Ordering Pants” tape.While
farting is never explicitly mentioned on the recording, there’s an
undeniable farty feel to the whole thing.Ya know?
